


Sleeping Arrangements

by Hesiod



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2057163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesiod/pseuds/Hesiod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morrigan thinks she's a pest. Leliana doesn't have a care in the world and makes herself comfortable in the witch's tent. Short oneshot. Leliana/Morrigan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Arrangements

Morrigan returned to the camp later than usual, the hop-skip of a raven turning into the casual stride of her usual form as she stalked out of the forest. The campfire was still burning, which meant that at least one of her companions - probably against better judgement, since they had a long day ahead of them - was still awake.

She turns the corner of a tent and nearly walks right into the tip of an arrow, pointed straight at her eye.

Grousing something short of a snarl, Morrigan inches back from the sharp metal. "Point that thing elsewhere; I've no problem setting a woman on fire. Pretty or not."

The redheaded bard's lip curls and she lowers her bow a fraction. The campfire from behind silhouettes her in dark shadow, making her look menacing - even if she was just a silly little girl in Morrigan's eyes. The witch sidesteps and brushes past her.

"I thought I heard something in the woods. It doesn't hurt to be cautious," Leliana says, following Morrigan to the campfire. She leans her bow on the log and sits beside her. She looks less threatening in the firelight; just a soft-faced girl with hair aglow from the flames.

"If I was trying to sneak in, you wouldn't have heard me."

"And if I was trying to kill you, you wouldn't have had such easy entrance," Leliana counters, with a playful smile.

Morrigan resists the urge to roll her eyes. The comment _'if I considered you a threat, you wouldn't get the chance to kill me'_ rests behind her teeth, but she keeps her mouth shut. She'd had a long day and provoking the incessant bard-chantry-complex would only get the girl to talk more - something she'd rather do without. She turns her body away, pointedly, and takes out an enchanted rune. It glows lightly at her touch and she keeps it on her lap, trying to focus.

"Are you hungry?" Leliana asks, voice pestering her from behind.

"No,"

"I suppose it's late for that, though I didn't see you eat earlier."

"I did."

"What have you got there?"

Morrigan closes her eyes. Maybe she ought to do this in her tent. It would be cold, but she supposed she could spare some mana for a small flame while she worked. Then she wouldn't be bothered by the bard, who seemed to know nothing of privacy. At this rate, she wouldn't be surprised if the girl followed her to her tent, slept there, and then blessed her with prayers from the Maker in the morning. What a nightmare.

"A rune?" Leliana asks, and Morrigan can feel her hovering over her shoulder to take a look. "A small one," she comments.

 _'Like my patience for you'_ , Morrigan thinks dryly.

"I need to concentrate, if you don't mind," Morrigan says, dismissing the girl. She shifts again so that her back is even more turned. "And then I'm going to bed."

"I was going to ask you," Leliana starts. She puts her hands on Morrigan's shoulders and the woman freezes instantaneously at the contact. The bard starts to rub her thumbs in, massaging lightly as she speaks. "Well, Oghren and Sten were sharing a tent, but then Oghren drank too much and passed out in mine instead. I think he was too inebriated to notice. Regardless, my bed now has a 300-pound dwarf in it who won't wake up-"

Morrigan's eyes narrow as she realizes where this is going. She shakes the hands off her shoulders. "You're not sleeping in my tent, if that's what you're getting at," she says sternly. "In fact, I'm going there now. Alone." She stands quickly, clasping the rune in her closed fist. "Put out the fire before you go to sleep."

It doesn't matter that she could douse the flames with a flick of her finger. What matters is that she has now given the stupid girl a task that in no way involves being around her. Which is better, in all circumstances.

There's a hushed protest, but Morrigan doesn't spare a glance backwards before she strolls into her tent. She closes the entrance flap with more force than necessary for the ceding canvas, and sits on her small bundle of blanket-covered-hay that served as her bed. Listening for a few minutes and content that Leliana isn't going to follow, she sets herself down on the bed and puts the rune in front of her again. Her hands hover above it and a white glowing mist produces from her skin, seeping its way into the small rock by a magical force. Her eyes flutter shut and she can feel her energy flowing into it, feeling more sleepy by the second.

"So what's it do?"

Morrigan cracks an eye open, then glares at the redhead entering her tent. The girl barges in with an infuriating informality and situates herself on the bed beside her. She bundles up the blanket she's carried in, placing it on the head of the bed beside Morrigan's, as if it were meant to be a pillow - as if she actually thought she was going to sleep there.

"Leliana, I've not a clue what you think you're doing, but it better happen somewhere else. Now." Morrigan says, the mist sizzling away as she pulls her hands from the rune.

Leliana lies down, making herself comfortable. The witch has enough sense not to let her mouth gape at the ridiculous sight (the _gall_ the girl had! Who else would so blatantly defy her?), and instead turns it into an irritated grimace. Leliana puts her hands behind her head, relaxing into the blankets. "I told you. I can't move Oghren and I have nowhere to sleep tonight."

As if she cared where the bard went at night. Morrigan flicks her wrist, a lazy attempt at shooing her away. "Go to Alistair. He's as chatty as you are."

"He snores."

"So do I," Morrigan lies. "Loudly."

"You're lying. A bard can tell when someone's lying."

Morrigan scowls, and has half a mind to force push the girl across the camp if it wouldn't take the whole tent with her. "Then I can start. I do not wish to have you in my tent. Or anywhere near me, for that matter."

Leliana pouts. She picks at some straws sticking out from the covers, making her sleeping space more comfortable. "Sten's a boulder who takes up the whole bed, Zevran's sharing his bed with the dog, and Wynne . . . Well I don't want to sleep with her. You'd be much more fun."

"We're having _fun_?" Morrigan asks, dryly. She points to the door. "Out. _Now_."

"You won't even notice I'm here."

"I'm noticing. And I'm debating what spells I should use on you that won't maim or kill."

"Another lie. I don't really think you'd hurt me," Leliana says. She drapes an arm across Morrigan's torso. "I'm too precious. And you like me, despite all the hostile talk." She pulls herself close and presses to the witch's back.

"Leliana!" Morrigan cries, trying to jerk away. She succeeds in flipping onto her back, upper body propped up by her elbows. "I will not be _spooned_ , least of all by you. Take your wandering hands elsewhere."

Leliana's hand slides to Morrigan's hipbone. She yawns sleepily. "Most people _enjoy_ the touch of a pretty girl," she says, fingers dancing on the pale skin. Morrigan stays as stiff as a board. "I know I do."

Morrigan's on her feet in an instant, permanent scowl on her face. Touching and chatting. Not something she wants before her late night routine. Not with the bard - or anyone for that matter.

"I'm going to take a walk around the camp. Twice." she says with irritation. "When I come back, I expect this bed to be _empty_." The witch spins, not giving the annoying pest another moment of her attention, and exits the tent quickly.

Leliana rests her head on the pillow, closing her eyes contently. She forgot how much fun the Game could be. And she liked the witch, despite everyone else's opinions of the shrew woman. She was. . . interesting. Not half as cruel as she put herself out to be. She smiles to herself as she drifts off, taking the liberty to pull Morrigan's wool blanket up tightly around her chin.

**Author's Note:**

> Playing through Dragon Age: Origins, and was particularly amused by Leliana and Morrigan's exchange about dresses and fine shoes. Wrote this on my iPhone last night with my eyelids half closed.
> 
> Gotta love these girls. Will eventually have to write a piece where they're actually paired. Enjoy!


End file.
